Holiday's End

Ah, holiday.

A day(s) where it’s possible to stay up until six in the morning without going to sleep.

A day(s) where it’s possible to sleep for 12 hours.

A day(s) where it’s socially accepted to just stay on your bed (in your room, to be exact) for the rest of the day.

Who doesn’t love holiday?

Well, just like any other... stuff. It must end.

Four days of holiday, eh? Is it enough?

Nah, of course it’s not. It’s never enough. Nothing is never enough.

I won’t complain though. It’s life anyway.

We enter a phase, get out of phase, happy at some phase, suicidal at some phase. You know, the usual stuff.

...what? You think I’m complaining?

No, honey, no. I’m not complaining, I’m just... well... stating my opinion, that’s all. You know, the usual stuff.

So, erhm, yeah. Holiday ended, still got some assignment(s) to do.

Bye.

I Simply Can't

Let’s just say I can’t. I simply can’t.

Doing the exact same thing in an exact same hole again. I simply can’t.

It’s not about being a boy and ain’t supposed to cry.

(what the hell is wrong with being a boy and crying anyway?)

It’s not about being a boy and feel ashamed ‘cause the girl could do it.

(what the hell was that even mean?)

It’s not about you people, it’s about me.

I simply can’t.

Those irrational arguments.

Those irrational reasons.

Those irrational shouts.

Those... anything irrational you could throw at us, at them, at me.

I simply can’t.

I expect a different thing. It’s a one year difference for God’s sake.

But then, It’s the exact same thing with the same old reason.

I tried, to be honest. I tried.

But I can’t. I simply can’t.

It’s not being brave, it got nothing to do with it.

It’s about keeping my sanity.

So?

I can’t.

I simply can’t.

Home is...

I’m at home.

After all those stupid unfortunate events, I could reach my home afterall.

Home where I spent most of my time as a high-schooler.

Home where my parent and my littler brother is.

Home.

Home sweet home.

Is it?

Some say that “home is where the (figurative) heart is”.

I agree. As a college student who lived not-so faraway from a place where he spent most of his time as a high-schooler, I agree.

But then, time changes.

(Sometimes) I feel weird. Feel weird to this place, to this so-called home.

At my home, I miss my that-place-where-I-stay-in-not-so-faraway-place.

At that place, I miss my home.

Funny. But that’s what I feel.

Then, what’s home for me?

Some place that I’ll miss but couldn’t live in it?

Utopia?

Am I overexaggerating this thing?

Maybe. I guess.

So... home, eh?

"Rubber"

People hate me, people love me.
People only love the new me, the unused one. The tight one.
People hate the old me, the used one. The stretched one.

People hate me, people love me.
People only look for the new me, the unused one. The tight one.
People ignore the old me, the used one. The stretched one.

People hate me, people love me.
People only admire the new me, the unused one. The tight one.
People dissapointed at the old me, the used one. The stretched one.

People hate me, people love me.
People pay high for the new me, the unused one. The tight one.
People pay low for the old me, the used one. The stretched one.

People hate me, people love me.
People use me, people throw me.

People hate me, people love me.
The used one, the unused one.
The stretched one, the tight one.

People hate me, people love me.

So, Why Are We Doing These In Ramadhan Again?

Mirip dengan ospek, Ramadhan di Indonesia ini gak jauh dari suatu kebiasaan yang turun-temurun dilakukan oleh penduduknya. Kebiasaan inipun berubah—entah menjadi lebih baik atau buruk—mengikuti zaman. Gue (dan mungkin mayoritas penduduk Indonesia) belum tahu kapan dan oleh siapa kebiasaan ini dimulai, tetapi tetap melakukannya—baik terpaksa atau tidak. Seperti yang gue bilang, mirip ospek, kan?

Mungkin perlu gue ingatkan kalau kalian mengharapkan suatu  insight  mendalam dengan data yang gue paparkan di sana-sini, maka dapat gue yakinkan kalau hal tersebut tidak ada di postingan ini. Mungkin. Seperti biasa, postingan ini akan berisi pendapat demi pendapat gue tentang suatu hal. But it doesn’t mean you should stop reading this post though. 

SO, PLEASE KEEP READING!

Harits' Ramadhan Routine (So Far)

(1) Bangun (atau terkadang dibangunkan) untuk memaksa tubuh bergerak menuju meja makan, untuk mengambil peralatan makan serta makanan, lalu mengonsumsinya. Berbicara mengenai hal-hal random dengan orang tua, dengan respon seadanya akibat nyawa yang masih belum terkumpul penuh sejak bangun tadi, sambil tetap mengonsumsi makanan.

(2) Selesai makan, kembali ke kamar, menyalakan televisi, melihat “acara sahur” di salah stasiun televisi yang perusahaannya dapat membangun hotel dan mal, tetapi tidak dapat menghasilkan acara yang menghibur. But, hey, just my opinion though.

(3) Imsak, setelah lelah menggonta-ganti  channel  televisi, duduk di depan laptop untuk bermain game atau mengarungi lautan internet atau bermain game di konsol kesayangan. Hingga kira-kira jam 12 siang. I’m not kidding.

(4) Lewat jam 12 siang? Tertidur tanpa sadar (yang berarti disadari? Hmmm...) akibat setelah sahur tidak tidur. Untuk membuka mata lagi kira-kira jam empat sore atau terkadang jam lima.

(5) Mandi, kembali mengakses internet atau bermain game di laptop atau konsol. Hingga kalimat “Menantikan Adzan Magrib” muncul di televisi.

(6) Perhatian tertuju pada televisi, hingga akhirnya adzan Magrib berkumandang (di televisi).

(7) Minum segelas teh hangat, makan di meja makan dengan kemungkinan sebagai berikut: kedua orang tua dan adik, salah satu orang tua dengan adik, hanya dengan adik, atau dalam kesempatan yang langka: sendirian.

(8) Kembali ke kamar, kembali ke depan laptop atau televisi.

(9) Tidur sekitar jam 10 atau 11 malam.

(10) Kembali ke nomor (1)